Page 48 of Siren's Treasure

She did, but she was falling in love with this world too—or maybe it was with one man in particular? Her hands spread out behind her, and she kicked, her legs tangling playfully with his, the banyan flowing around them like a living thing, binding them together. “I never left the sea.”

He stilled at her playful movement, his gaze darkening on hers before he quickly gathered her against him, one hand splayed across the small of her back while the other caught in her hair. His kiss was like a soft lullaby, gentle, his lips savoring her like the life-giving water all around them.

Yes, he’d sufficiently warmed her up now!

The water felt like a reunion with a long-lost friend, as he guided her beneath the waterfall. A deafening roar engulfedthem in a blast of frigid water, flattening her long red hair against her back and shoulders.

She clung to him under the waterfall, burying her face against the rough stubble of his jaw, cherishing his solidity amid the torrential force as they emerged on the other side of the rushing waters into blessed calm. Her silk tunic was plastered to her like a second skin. “You—you bilge-rat!” She barely got the words out through her shrieks and laughter. “You did that on purpose!”

His fingers tightened possessively over her waist. “Did we break Scylla’s curse with a kiss?” A playful curve pushed up his lips as he asked the ridiculous. “Does this mean you’ll be human forever?”

Lovewashow Undine’s deal with Scylla was supposed to end—if her prince had only returned her love and married her, although Thessa’s destiny had a more sinister twist. And with Circe sniffing them out like a relentless dog, it wasn’t hard to figure out who the blade was meant for. Already fate seemed to be on her side, and it wasn’t very nice.

She tried to forget all of that in Raggon’s smile, with his wild grace, with the eyes that held the sea itself. “You’re going to have to try harder than that to break the curse,” she said.

And yes, she’d meant that as a challenge.

Without hesitation, he answered it, claiming her mouth with a fervor that stole her breath and made her forget whether she was creature of land or sea. His hands cradled her face with reverent tenderness even as his lips demanded her heart.

Ah, tides take her! He’d left her breathless. She clung to his shoulders to keep her balance, but seeing her dilemma to keep both feet on the sand, Raggon tickled her under the ribs, and she twisted away with a giggle, her face tilting up to the palm-framed sky. The arches on the waterfall above them were unusual shapes. From here, woven together they looked like… “a heart!” she murmured.

Raggon’s shoulders stiffened. His head tilted back. “Undine’s Blade,” he whispered in shock. It was within their reach.

A shiver of fear ran through her, despite the safety of his embrace. The providences had truly led them here, and none of it possible without the witches’ dark aid. There was only one way to return the dagger to her father’s trident—fulfill Undine’s curse and kill her enemy with it. And then what? Would she become a mermaid again and lose Raggon forever? That brief happiness bubbling through her senses turned heavy and sank to her toes.

She never thought that she’d want to stay human when she’d made her bargain. Perhaps, this was what Scylla was counting on all along.

Chapter twenty-two

Raggon scrambled up the slick rock leading to the heart arches, just like he’d done as a kid with his brother at the Devil’s Head Cliffs back home. Every movement sent fresh pain lancing through the gashes on his back where the boar’s tusks had scored him. Shifting through the misty air and hoping to find a perfect perch when he reappeared was nearly impossible.

He glanced down at Thessa—poor mermaid was just learning to use her legs, and now he was asking her to scramble up a towering cliff’s edge with a twisted ankle? “Wait there,” he called.

“No! You can’t touch the Undine Blade!” she cried out. “The cursed hair from the mermaids will wither your flesh to bones if you accidentally brush against it.”

Good point. The heat and pain made noodles of his brain, but so was the thought of putting Thessa in danger. At the same time, becoming nothing but a fancy pile of bones wasn’t appealing when so many depended on him to survive this. Theshadow of his brother swept over them. Back and forth he flew like a bird of prey—their protector or circling his next juicy meal? There was no way to know!

A flash of prismatic feathers darted beneath the dragon’s massive wingspan. Sterling perched on a nearby branch, cocking his head at them. “Dead men tell no tales!” the bird squawked, followed by, “Help her, you bilge rat!”

Raggon blinked, recognizing his brother’s favored insult in the parrot’s mimicry. More of Tobias remained than they’d feared. Either way, they were on borrowed time. Raggon began his descent to reach Thessa at the ledge. They’d be fools not to know that Circe was holding back, waiting for them to retrieve the blade before she moved in.

He’d cut Tobias free before she made her attack. As for resurrecting Poseidon? What did that mean? Releasing his mermaid to the sea? His heart hurt at the prospect.

Don’t think about that right now.

Survival first, keeping her came later. Raggon dropped back to the ledge where Thessa stood. He dug his foot into a crevice in the rocks. “Stand on my knee.”

He already knew she’d protest, but this time her usual rebellion was halfhearted, as she scrambled for some kind of handhold on the rocks. The twisted ankle made her movements hesitant, her face contorting with each shift of weight. Under his barked orders, she gained the next outcropping, stopping at a narrow shelf with nowhere visible to go.

He caught up to her, running his hand over her back. She was shaking like a sail in a squall. His mermaid was so far out of her element from her jaunty underworld that she had no choice but to accept his help.

The path upward narrowed treacherously, the limestone face slick with emerald moss and trailing vines. Each movement tore at the wounds on his back, sweat stinging the open cuts. Hisbruised shoulder protested as he hauled himself higher, then reached back to guide her.

“Place your foot exactly where mine was,” he instructed, voice tight with the effort of sounding calmer than he felt. “The moss is slippery, but the rock beneath is solid.”

Thessa followed, her face pale with concentration. Her robe drifted around her legs like an ominous cloud, the delicate fabric catching on every jagged edge.

They were almost to the heart-shaped arch when it happened. A chunk of limestone crumbled beneath her good foot. Her startled cry pierced the jungle calm as she slipped. Her hands flailed desperately. Her garish finery flying outward as she teetered on the edge.

---